How to mess with time

Childhood is a timeless era

Oregon
1972, October 31st.

Scribble
Ever since it started, I'd always wondered what had interested me the most about it. If it was the swirling world around me, or the backwards sounds I could always hear in my ear when I did it. I just couldn't decide, but the more I did it. The more I wanted to keep doing it, I guess for this to make sense to you I'd have to tell it from the beginning. It won't really matter what you think by the end, but I think I should leave this. Just in case any grownups might believe it.

It was cold out that day, the bell had just rang and I'd scurried from my classroom. Down the hallways and outside, on my way to my locker I stopped and admired all the halloween decorations that the older kids had put up. I never could understand the concept of time, minutes, hours, days, or months. Which is why I appreciated the decorations so much. Halloween decorations meant that it would soon be time to go and find a costume, or make one myself. It also meant it was going to start getting cold.

I walk down the front steps of my school, waving goodbye to my friends and seeing my mom waiting for me in her car. I open the door to the backseat and hop in, throwing off my backpack. Feeling pretty cold, my cheeks were flushed red and kinda burned. I didn't like the cold weather, but even though I didn't like it. I'd never turn down trick or treating, not once.

The drive home was bumpy today. Mom didn't stop by Dairy Queen, even though she'd promised me the night before. As we passed the restaurant, I protested.

"But why!" I hollered, she looked back in her mirror and gave me a disapproving look.

"The last time you got ice cream, it spoiled your dinner."

I huffed, sitting back in my seat. No amount of pleading would win her over, or puppy eyes. That method seemed to have faded away many years ago, like rotten fruit or spoiled milk. As I looked out the window, I was mesmerized by everything that was passing me by. I knew better as to continue my pleads, or she might threaten to call Dad home early.

We lived on the outskirts of town, up an old dirt road. Which always made this weird crackling noise as we drove up it, Mom had to shift gears in her little blue car to make it all the way up the road. Despite the bumpy ride, I enjoyed looking at all the trees and greenery that passed me by. The steering wheel turned and the car obliged, pulling up to our house. Home, it was made of carefully constructed wooden logs that moved all about the property.

Getting out of the car, I rushed to the door. Mom was always slower than me to get to the door, the car doors locked and I heard that beep it always made, I banged at the door for a moment. Perhaps to speed her up, it didn't work. Once she had finally gotten to the door and unlocked it, I felt like I was going to lose my mind. As the door slid open, I rushed inside.

Creeeeak,
My backpack was off my shoulders in an instant, and I was outside again. I loved using the back door because Mom never got inside fast enough to protest. I loved being outside, which was why I hated school so much. The only time we ever went outside was during P.E, but I could never explore.

We live in Oregon near the coast, which is why we have some pretty spectacular views from our house. Dad always preached to me about staying away from the trails, because he knew where the trails lead. Up to the edges of the mountains, which had a massive drop off into the shallow waters below.

But I never listened to him. Mom always thought I was on the swing when I took off outside. Though recently, I'd gained the courage to go up on the trials. My sneakers shuffling across the dirt paths, I extended my hand. And it brushed against some colorful leaves, whenever people started putting up Halloween decorations. It also meant the leaves would be changing colors.